case someone heard the noise and investigated. But no one did.
There were five heavily armed paramilitaries on the far side of the fence with him. Plus Leeson and Dietrich. Seven enemies. He had less than twelve minutes left before Hart realised he wasn’t in the embassy.
He secured the gun in his waistband, stepped back to create enough distance and took a running leap at the fence. He cleared a couple of metres and climbed the rest. The fence shook and rattled, but he didn’t have the time to climb it quietly and it would be impossible to do so without making some noise. If no one had heard the vest land no one would hear him climb.
When he reached as far as his fingers could grip, he walked his feet up until they were almost as high as his hands and he protruded from the fence in a right-angled U shape. He straightened his back and bent his legs inward until his shins were almost vertical and parallel with the fence. He then pushed his legs straight and let go with his hands so that he stood with only his feet supporting him, jammed into the links, and only the strength of his thighs preventing him losing balance and toppling over backwards.
He bent his torso forward, contorting over the spikes and reaching out downwards with his hands as if going to touch his toes. He gripped the fence and felt the spikes pushing against his stomach. He locked and tensed his arms and straightened his back, lifting his legs away from the fence, then brought them up until they came in line with the rest of his torso and he was vertical and upside down. He adjusted his grip and bent his torso to one side, his legs tilting with his torso until gravity took over and swung his body the right way up. Finally he let go with his hands, dropping the last couple of metres.
He went into a low squat to lessen the impact and turned around.
Victor hooked the vest back over his shoulder and readjusted the gun in his waistband so he could draw it with speed, but he couldn’t risk a gunshot unless there were no other options. He had no knife or other quiet weapon. His hands would have to do the job instead.
Coughlin waited and watched. On the terrace were close to a hundred men and women, almost indistinguishable from one another in their black evening wear. But he could see easily enough that neither Kooi nor Francesca were among them. It was 8:35 p.m. so there was ten minutes until they were scheduled to join the crowd outside to await the ambassador’s speech. Within half an hour the bomb would explode and Prudnikov would be dead and the job completed. ‘You’re sure I’m still getting paid even if Kooi backs out of this, right?’
‘He’ll comply,’ Hart replied. ‘Whether or not Leeson then pays you your fee is not of my concern.’
‘And the wife and kid will be free to go after Kooi blows himself up, yeah? Just like you and Leeson said they would.’
‘You mean Lucille and Peter?’
‘Yeah, Lucille and Peter. The woman and the boy. Kooi’s family. Who the hell else would I be talking about here?’
‘Perhaps you should be more mindful of your tone when you speak to me.’
‘Why aren’t you answering me? Kooi kills himself and buys the lives of his wife and son. That the deal. That’s what he agreed. I’m asking you now, if Kooi lives up to his end of the deal, you’ll live up to yours?’
‘Kooi doesn’t have a choice. He’ll do what we agreed.’
‘And will you?’
‘No.’
‘Oh man,’ Coughlin breathed. ‘What happened to the rules of war? What happened to women and children getting a pass?’
‘We’re assassinating the head of the Russian foreign intelligence service. Do you believe leaving witnesses behind who can attest to that fact is a viable course of action for someone who wishes to remain breathing? Can you imagine what the SVR would do to you if they even suspected you were involved in Prudnikov’s murder?’
‘Yeah,’ Coughlin said. ‘I can. But that woman wouldn’t say shit to nobody, not after all this. No way she would risk her son. And what about the kid? He’s just a kid. Why does he have to die?’
‘Why should he live? No one on this wretched planet is innocent. We all have hate in our hearts. We are all capable of barbarism if given the opportunity